Thoughts
by wotan
Summary: A sad story about Ginny. I know there are at least five Ginny fans out there - are there any more?


Disclaimer : I disclaim everything.

Thoughts

Ginny sat in her room at the Burrow, thinking. Everybody else was outside, enjoying the party. She didn't want to go. She knew she'd make a fool of herself, knew she wouldn't enjoy herself if she went down. **He** was there. And he wouldn't even notice her. Nobody would. And he'd dance with every other girl. And hold them and laugh with them and perhaps kiss one of them. And eventually she wouldn't be able to stand it any more and she'd run from the party, crying. And still nobody would notice. Nobody ever did. She was the baby of the family and nobody noticed her.

She picked up the sharp paper-knife and stared at it. It would be so easy. Nobody would care. She knew it was wrong, but the more she stared at the glinting blade, the more attractive it seemed. She stood and moved to the centre of the room. The knife sat easily in her hand. A simple jab, under the rib-cage, up into her heart, and all her painful thoughts would be gone. Nobody would care. She took the knife in both hands and turned it towards herself …

There was a noise, a scuffle, outside on the landing. Ron and Harry were shouting and laughing. She paused, embarrassed now.

"Got you!" shouted Ron. There was a wheeze.

"You did too" gasped Harry.

"Sorry" said Ron. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm okay" replied Harry. "I'll catch you up in a minute. Let me get my breath back."

"All right" said Ron. "See you down there." She heard him run down the stairs. There was a thud as Harry - as Harry what? Strange thoughts ran through her mind. Was he all right? She threw the knife onto her bed, dragged the duvet over it and hurried to the bedroom door. Heart pounding, she opened the door and looked out. Harry was sat on the floor, back against the wall, rubbing his stomach.

"Gin! Hi" he gasped, smiling at her.

"H-h-hello" said Ginny, her legs turning to jelly as they always did when Harry spoke to her.

"Your brother just winded me. I need to get my breath back."

"Oh". She could manage nothing more erudite.

"Give me a hand-up."

Trembling, Ginny took his hand in both of hers and pulled him up. She blushed and hurriedly let go. He didn't seem to notice her blushes.

"What are you doing up here Gin? Why aren't you at the party?"

"I … I didn't … the party … is it … where … now …" She knew she was acting like a complete idiot, but her mouth and brain just separated whenever Harry talked to her.

"Can I come in and sit down for a moment? Ron has got one heck of a punch."

Mute, she nodded her agreement. Harry followed her into her little room and collapsed into her chair. Ginny sat on the edge of her bed. Harry rubbed at his stomach some more. Ginny just looked at her hands. She didn't dare look at him, though she knew every line of his face. She gave silent thanks that her treasured photographs of him were safely hidden away.

"So" said Harry, after a minute or two, "what are you doing up here, all by yourself? You are coming to the party aren't you?"

She shook her head, still looking down.

"What's the matter Gin?"

"Nothing."

"Then come."

"I've nobody to go with" she said quietly.

"Nobody's really going with anybody. Everybody mixes. It's just a laugh."

"I'd rather not."

Harry craned forward and peered up at her, grinning. Ginny blushed furiously and looked out of the window, anything to avoid his eyes.

"I'd rather you did" he said. "I … I've been waiting for ages to dance with you."

Amazed, she turned and stared at him. He smiled feebly and looked down at his feet.

"Do you mean that?" asked Ginny in a very small steady voice that didn't seem to be her own.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't" said Harry, still looking down. Then he looked up and smiled gently at her. "Please come Ginny. With me. We can ignore everybody else."

"I … I'm not ready. I'd have to change."

"Go on then" said Harry, grinning. He stood. "I'll wait outside." He walked to the door and then turned and looked at her. "Remind me to thank Ron for that punch!"

Ginny stood and stared at the closed door. Then she hugged herself and beamed. Harry wanted to go to the party - with her! He was going to dance with her. She tore her jeans and blouse off and rifled through her wardrobe. She had rehearsed a hundred times in a hundred dreams what she would wear when Harry finally asked her out. And now all she could do was panic. Too long. Too short. Wrong colour. Not what Harry liked. Not, … her shantung silk. Perfect. She slid into it and smoothed it down. She pulled her hair back and tied a ribbon in it. Make-up? No, she'd make a mess of it. And Harry didn't like it anyway. Her heeled shoes. A final glance in the mirror. She bit her lip nervously. And walked out.

"Wow" said Harry, whistling. He grinned. "I was waiting for a girl called Ginny, you haven't seen her have you?"

Ginny went pink.

"May I?" said Harry, holding out his arm.

Ginny took it, and in a confusion of delight, walked down to the party with him.

* * *

It was late. The party was over. Ginny sat alone in the dark in her room, looking out of the window, thinking happy thoughts. The night was warm and balmy. It had been a perfect evening. Every thought she'd ever had about Harry had been crystallised tonight.

Harry had danced nearly every dance with her. He'd made one exception - somebody had put on a punk-rock track and he and Ron had jumped up and pogoed around the lawn together, leaving everybody else helpless with laughter. Then people had rushed to join them. As she and Hermione watched the heaving throng, tears of laughter streaming down their faces, Hermione had whispered something to her. Ginny blushed, but then nodded. Hermione had smiled and squeezed her arm.

The last, slow, dance had arrived. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and they started to shuffle around together. Then, as she'd promised, Hermione did something magical and killed all the lights. A chorus of approval had rung out.

Ginny sat and stared, replaying every step of the dance in her mind, still feeling his strong arms around her. Her head had been against his chest, her arms draped around his neck. And he had held her ever more tightly. And then …

Ginny jumped up and shed her clothes, happier than she could ever remember. She found the bed by touch and pulled the duvet back. And then, as she'd always done as a child when she was happy, she leapt into the air and hurled herself down onto the bed. Something sharp pierced her chest. A sudden pain cut into her as her body buckled and twisted. She put her hand down and felt a warm wetness oozing over her flesh. With a great effort she pulled the knife out. Her body gave way and she fell flat again, face-down on the bed. "Harry!" she tried to scream, but only blood-flecked foam came out of her mouth. Her vision dimmed. She remembered the last moment of the last dance - Harry's arm around her waist, a hand in her hair, his mouth pressed tenderly against hers. He kissed me, she thought. It was the last thought she ever had.

T H E E N D


End file.
